


Tears of a Phoenix

by whimsicalmuse



Category: The Lord of the Rings RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe, Angst, First Time, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2004-08-23
Updated: 2004-08-23
Packaged: 2018-08-07 20:50:19
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 12,621
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7729231
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/whimsicalmuse/pseuds/whimsicalmuse
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dom takes a road trip to escape a life he doesn?t want to live anymore, and finds more than he ever dreamed in the desert.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Note from Shirasade: this story was originally archived at the [Monaboyd.net Archive](http://fanlore.org/wiki/Monaboyd.net), which was closed in September 2014 due to software issues and a lack of new submissions for several years. To preserve the archive, I began manually importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in October 2014. I e-mailed all authors about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this author, please contact me using the e-mail address on the [Monaboyd.net Archive collection profile](https://archiveofourown.org/collections/Monaboyd_Archive/profile).

Grey matter sprawled before me, framed in white and yellow. _The road goes ever on,_ I thought, and shook my head with a chuckle. How long I had been driving, I wasn’t entirely certain, but it was calm in the desert and I was reluctant to complain. The sky hung low, inky black and scattered with bright diamonds and from time to time I would peep up, focusing past my dim reflection with a slight frown.

 _When was the last time you wished upon a star?_ God only knows when. Wishes would do me no good in the state I was in, and wishing got me nothing but charred fingertips and sin. _Bring me someone to chase away the shadows when the sun dies each day. Give me that sense of completion, that something I was lacking that let him leave me._

I shook my head at my poetic rambling. “Rubbish.” My wishing star twinkled, as if with laughter, and I found it fitting that the heavens would mock me in with the mood I was in.

The hours stretched like honey, and soon my eyes felt heavy. I knew I would need to find a dive to stay the night, hoping to get an early start come morning. I peeped at my watch, clucked my teeth at the late hour, and in the second I took to do so, something darted across the road.

“Shite!” I hissed, snatched my wheel in the opposite direction, and after a brief bit of fishtailing, came to a stop at the side of the road. My heart was residing somewhere in the region of my chin, and I wondered if I had pissed myself a bit. I unbuckled my seatbelt, and pulled myself from the car.

What the fuck was that?

You watch scary movies, and you see the lead get out of the bloody car and you tell your mates, I’d never do that. But when confronted with the gray unknown, I didn’t, couldn’t do the same, truth be told. The pink grit crunched loudly beneath my feet, and the fine mist of dust choked me up a little, as I strode back several paces, headed in the general region of where I saw the mystery flash.

The night air was chill, and I was sure that whatever, or whoever was out there would be grateful for a reprieve from the biting cold, in the comfort of the car. I might be a bit paranoid when watching a scary movie, but I’m no bastard.

“Hello?” Something rustled in the low bushes, or maybe it was Yucca trees-I couldn’t tell, and never was an expert on California’s flora and fauna.

“Hello? I won’t hurt you? I’m trying to see-“ _See what? What you are? If I killed you? Are you ok?_ I sighed, stuffed my hands in my jeans pocket, and turned my heels when I got no response. Maybe I had been seeing things. Two steps later, I heard a disturbance again, and I turned back around, determined to see what was to be seen. I took off without warning, a growl in my throat, stumbling over spiked fences and still green tumbleweeds in search of my white rabbit. Whatever it was, it was still too far away to be seen clearly, though, in the starlight, it looked like it could in fact be human.  
  
_With my luck it’s a werewolf_. I groused, as I stubbed my toe on a sharp rock, but I persisted, and I was soon on the heels of my rabbit. The poor thing seemed to be tired out too, as I was now sure it was in fact human, though the gender was still a mystery, and from the looks of things, the dark hump was a blanket of some sort they had draped around them.

 

“I-I won’t hurt you! Please slow down!” I cried, my legs straining now after hours of no use and fatigue. Still my rabbit persisted, until it was caught off guard by a rock like I was, and fell to the ground with a sickening crack. I froze in my place, stunned, before running up to the figure now curled on the packed dirt.

Some clouds had floated by lazily, shrouding the dessert in a slow moving show of shadow puppets, and as I approached the slumped figure, I found it to be a man, caked from head to toe in mud, and wrapped in what looked like an old parachute.

A dark trail of blood trickled down the side of his head.

“Oh shit,” I mumbled, before dropping to my knees, to access how bad off this was. He seemed to be breathing soundly, and I reached forward tentatively, to see how bad the crack to his head was. When I pulled back, my fingertips were covered in blood, but aside from a nasty bump, I was pretty sure he would be ok.

That is, if I could wake him up. Mum always told me to keep someone awake if they bumped their head, something about concussions and a coma, and with a set jaw, I placed a hand on his shoulder, and gave him a gruff shake.

“Hey mate, wake up. Can’t have you conked out like this.”

He groaned, deep and low in his throat, and rolled on his side. I opened my mouth to ask what the problem was, but he answered it by violently throwing up in a scene that was worse than _The Exorcist._

I was nice enough to hold his shaggy hair back.

“You alright there, mate?” I smiled thinly, and pat him on the back. He didn’t answer me.

“I’m sorry about the exchange on the road there I was distracted for a minute. It’s not safe for you to dart out like that though. You could have gotten killed.”

He collected some more of his layers up, and attempted to stand. Vertigo and the effects of the crack on his head must have caught up with him, and he swaggered, and fell down onto his knees. I motioned to help him, but he set his chin proudly, so I backed off.

“I said I wouldn’t hurt you.”

“And you still did.” He grumbled, speaking for the first time, thus shooting down my theory that he couldn’t understand me.

“You?”

“Can understand you, yes.” He groused, before attempting to stand yet again, succeeding this time. He took off away from the road, and I hesitated a moment, before opting to follow him. He would freeze out here.

“You, you want a ride to town? You can’t stay here.” He cast me a sidelong glance, his bare feet still crunching down over burrs and rocks.

“Why not?” He replied, adjusting his wrap while trying to hide a shiver.

“Because.” I laughed softly. “You’ll freeze out here. Man cannot withstand the freezing temperatures that will overrun this place within the hour!”

“So it would seem.” He murmured. And I wondered what he meant by that.

“Come with me, back to the car. I’ll find you someplace warm for the night.” He nodded slowly, before following.

“My name’s Dominic, by the way.” I added, as the car came into sight.

“William.” He breathed. “My name’s William.”

 

*  
About 20 minutes from a speck of a town named Blythe, we passed a battered yellow sign on the side of the road. “Do not pick up hitchhikers.” Above it was the notice for the State Prison exit. I chewed the inside of my lip, and rubbed my hands over the steering wheel nervously.

“I didn’t come from there, Dominic.” He grumbled, curling himself into a tighter ball, as he gazed up at the sky.

“Where did you come from then, Billy?”

“Don’t call me that.”

I chewed my lip. He hadn’t answered my question.

*

“Wow, we got to this town fast.” I remarked softly. “Now for a night of rest, and then I’m off in the morning.”

His back was still to me, his long face still looking into the ink for answers.

“Where are you going, Dominic?” He whispered, as we pulled into Seedy Motel number 27.

“Anywhere but here.”

Chapter 2

I opted to keep Billy in the car when I checked in, pretty sure that “Mavis” was not accustomed to seeing slight men caked in mud approach the counter and ask for a room. Then again, I did see a fellow dressed like a bad extra from The Village People stagger down the hall as I grabbed my bags and silently motioned for Billy to join me inside.

“We’ll sleep here tonight. I figure you’d appreciate a bath, yeah?”

He padded stiffly into the room, his face softening as his skin adjusted to the comfortable heat. In the better light, I came to realize he was draped in _nothing_ but the long parachute like material, and I averted my eyes shyly when he re-wrapped the material around him, and sat in a chair.

His eyes were dim, and half-glazed I figured he was knackered. He still hadn’t answered me.

“Or you could just…wash your face, and erm, crawl into the spare bed if you’re too tired.”

He looked up, as if hearing me for the first time.

“Bath?”

“Or shower. I em, have some spare clothes you could use, if you like.”

“I have no means of re-paying you for your generosity, Dom.”

For some reason, my cheeks flushed at the shortened use of my name.

“Don’t call me that.” I grinned. He darted his eyes down, abashed.

“I’m a bastard, William. I was kidding.” He nodded. “You don’t have to re-pay me for anything. I practically killed you.” _And you’re wandering the desert like a refugee, that can’t be good._

“I’ll just bathe then.” He remarked quietly, and rose, still clinging to his rags. As soon has he shut the door, I jumped up from the bed, full of nervous energy, and began rifling through my clothes hoping to find something for him to wear tonight. He was a slight bit shorter than I was, so pants were going to be a dodgy issue, and his shoulders were a bit broader than mine as well, but I figured a tee shirt would be alright. For a moment I hesitated over handing him the worn brown shirt, my fingers brushing the white tree in the center reverently. Would he like it? Then again, a man running about the desert in rags probably wasn’t going to have the most stringent fashion standards. By the time I had fished out a spare toothbrush and some socks, he emerged.

The layers of mud had fallen away, and he was freshly scrubbed, and in the light, quite handsome. My eyes flittered over what had to be the creamiest flushed skin I’d ever seen, and I swallowed hard, silently reminding myself that I had no designs on this stranger, and would have none either. For all I knew, he could be some murderous maniac.

“I em, got you some clothes.”

“Thank you.” For once, he seemed eager to look me in the eye. I avoided this.

“I’m just going to shower myself, and erm, let you change in private.”

“Alright.”  
  
“Just…going to…” My voice trailed off, as I gathered my sweats, and toiletries, and retreated to the bathroom. Once inside, I leaned heavily against the door, my chest rising and falling shallowly. Any moment of self-flagellation I would have had was dashed when I saw the mess the man had left. His rag was wet and bunched in a corner, and leaving a trail of red mud on the floor. The tub looked like a murder had taken place and a path of small pebbles was left in the center of the already dingy tub. A small collection was pooled in the drain, glistening pink, champagne, and dark red. They were quite lovely actually. I scooped them up, rolled them in my palm a bit, before tucking them in my pocket. I didn’t dwell on why.

 

Once under the stream of heat, I felt some of the tension I’d been stifling pour off of me, as well as my own formidable layer of sweat and dirt, compliments of a full day of driving in the desert. My mind wandered over how to gently question Billy, and figure out the best way to go about getting him where he needed to be, but every end left a twinge of discomfort in my belly that I couldn’t reconcile.

I stepped out of the shower, toweled myself off, and smeared a damp hand over the fogged up mirror, to have a good look at myself. I chewed my lip.

_You don’t want him to leave._

I frowned, and slid on my pants.

He was sitting uncomfortably on the bed, his legs folded under him and his hands tucked in the space between them.

“Hey.” I murmured.

“Feel refreshed?” He replied softly.

“Like new.” I sighed, and settled onto my own bed on my side so that I might face him. His eyes were brighter now, and almost yellow like a full moon. I blinked.

“Your phone rang while you were in the shower.”

I knit my eyebrows. At this hour?

“Who was it?”

“He told me to tell you to call Elijah.”  
  
I felt instantly cold, and the tension I thought I had washed away came galloping back onto my shoulders.

“Oh. Ok.” I hoped he couldn’t feel my discomfort. “What did he say?”

The corners of his lips curled, almost in a grin. I found I rather liked him grinning.

“He demanded to know who I was, and when I told him, he grew quiet, and asked you to call him.”

I smiled. “What did you tell him?”

“That my name was William Boyd, and that you were in the shower at the moment. I told him we were going to bed soon, and that you were tired.”

I snorted, imagining the look on Elijah’s face, as I was sure Billy here had no idea how incriminating that sounded.

“Let me get his over with,” I groaned, as I plucked up my cell phone. “Lijah? I’m fine, thanks. No, no, I’m fine. Billy?” I turned to face him. “Bill’s a friend I made along the way. I figured it’s better traveling with two. Safety in numbers and all that.” That squiggle returned in my stomach again, and my conscience hissed at me. “I’m about to crash actually, but I’ll give you a call tomorrow if you want…Well tell Sean I’m fine, and to stop worrying so damn much. Makes him seem like a girl. Ok. Goodnight Elijah.” I snapped off the phone before he could start a new assault, and tucked it in my bag.

Billy just stared in as polite a manner as one could stare. I nearly squirmed.

“He’s a former lover.” There was no doubt in his voice. I mussed the back of my damp hair, not to eager to discuss my complex sexual orientation with a half-stranger. Still, I didn’t think lying to him would be very productive.

“Um, yes. Things… _Fell apart,_ ”Thing’s didn’t work out, and um, he moved on.”  
  
“You didn’t.”

I sighed.  
  
“Not sure. I-I think I’m on the mend. But sometimes, it’s hard to go back to the way we were, before.” I blushed, something I _never_ do, surprised to be sharing this with him.  
  
He simply nodded. I changed the subject, eager to direct the conversation to more pertinent topics.  
  
“So Billy-sorry.” He shook his head. ”Where can I take you tomorrow?”

This was a topic he was not eager to dwell on, and he stood up from the bed, and walked over to the window. His face was sad, as if he was remembering a dead relative, and for a minute I had the compulsion to hug him.

I wisely occupied my hands with a loose string on the ratty duvet.

“I have no particular destination in mind. But if I’m a burden to you, you can leave me here and I will manage.”  
  
I blinked, both curious about why he had no destination, and a bit surprised. Why did he have no place in particular to be?  
  
“You’re not a burden, William. At least not yet.” I smiled softly. He still started out the window, obviously not keen on explaining things yet. “I’d like the company on the road, even if I have no idea where it will take me.” I added, so quiet I wasn’t sure if he’d heard me.  
  
“I think I’d like that too.”

Chapter 3  
  
“My family and I are estranged.” I put the iced tea down, and swallowed around the huge bite of chocolate I had just taken, surprised at his admission. We had rode in a comfortable silence for hours that morning, hardly speaking beyond one or two word sentences from the moment I suggested a shower, to the time I filled the gas tank up and sped like a bat outta hell away from Blythe.  
  
“Do they…know where you are?” I wanted to ask why, but for some reason found that very invasive.  
  
“Yes. They have no interest in reuniting with me.” The sadness in his voice was unmistakable now. I bit my lip.

“I can relate.”

*  
“So um, how’d you end up…ya know…” I felt marvelously daft.

“I don’t remember.”

“Oh.”

You’re from the Isles, yeah? Northern country, Scotland?”  
  
He smiled just a bit.

So it would seem.”

I hesitated. “I’m from Manchester, myself.”

He nodded, but I got the distinct impression he had no idea where or what I was talking about.

Three hundred miles, and forty pounds of junk food later, we found ourselves in yet another seedy motel, staggering stiffly into another set of double beds, too tired even to shower. He lie on his stomach, the back of my shirt riding up a bit, revealing a patch of skin that looked warm and soft. I darted my eyes away. The curve of his ass was snug in my jeans, which hung low on his hips, and when he stood up to use the loo, I could see the peaks of his hipbones, and the sparse trail of hair low on his belly. Something tingled low in my back, and I made a vow to have a wank when I showered in the morning.

Probably cabin fever.

He waited until the lights were out, and sleep was cocooning me nicely, before he felt sure enough to talk again.

S’nice being with you during the day, Dom.”

“Not the night?” I smiled against the side of the pillow.

No, not at night, because you snore.”

I snorted indignantly.

“When I…parted from my family, I didn’t think I’d…do well. I thought there wasn’t much use. My family was my life. I…don’t know how to behave without them.”

I shifted. “Did you…have a wife? Kids?”

I heard him shake his head. “No.”

I buried my face, to hide the smile that cracked.

Why did…why did you part from your family, William?”  
  
“We had a disagreement.”  
  
I opened my mouth to ask him another question, but I stopped, realizing he was asleep. The curtains were parted just a crack, and the gold blue mix of street and moon light filtered in, and washed over his sleeping face. I wasn’t prepared for the tightness that fixed itself in my chest. He looked like a child, yet at the same time, very very old.


	2. Chapter 2

"So how old are you, Billy?”  
  
He shifted, and pulled his glasses over his face. They were ridiculous: black and too big for his face, the kind the Blues Brothers would wear, but I didn’t have the heart to say as much, when he held them up, a baby smile on his face. I bet he could get someone to agree to anything when he smiled like that.

“What do you do for a living, Dom?”  
  
I rubbed the steering wheel. “You’re avoiding the question.”  
  
He shook his head. “I’m not. I’m debating how to answer you.”  
  
“Why would my question require so much thought?”  
  
“Now you’re avoiding the question.”  
  
I sighed. “I’m an entomologist. I study bugs.”  
  
“I’m aware of what an entomologist does, Dom.” I blushed.  
  
“You want an honest answer about my age?” He looked truly worried.  
  
“Sure? I mean, you don’t look that old, what are you, about 30?”  
  
He swallowed. “You’ll not believe me, but…”  
  
“Forget it.” I suddenly didn’t want to know. “Tell me something about your family.”  
  
His face softened again. “They left me.”  
  
I took my eyes off the road, confused. “What do you mean, they left you?”  
  
“Dom-“  
  
“What?”  
  
He pointed at the road, and I turned, remembering where we were, and narrowly avoided hitting an old lady in a battered Buick. I must have hit a sharp rock or something, because I heard a strange noise, almost as loud as a gun shot, and the car, still unsteady from the maneuver, swiveled erratically. I ended up skidding onto the uneven soft shoulder.  
  
“Fuck!” I cursed, hitting the dashboard. “M’sorry Billy, are you alright?”  
  
He was breathing heavily.  
  
“M’fine. Just startled me.” He breathed, and I nodded, feeling like a total piece of shit.  
  
*  
  
“The tire guy says we’re stuck here for a few hours,” I grumbled, as I sat down on a hot chair next to him. He nodded numbly, and took a shallow sip of his water.  
  
“What seems to be the hold up?” He murmured.  
  
“This piss town doesn’t have a tire to fit my car,” I grumbled, and spat on the ground, my throat choked up from the dust.  
  
“What are they doing to do?” He knit his brow.  
  
“Call the nearest town and have one delivered,” I sighed.  
  
“Oh, that must have been costly.”  
  
“It was, but necessary. Just means I’ll be sticking to one star hotels along the way.”  
  
He grinned, already picking up my dry sense of humor.  
  
“And here I thought you were going to splurge on the Holiday Inn.”  
  
I skipped a beat, shocked to hear such normal terms slip from his mouth, and then replied, “Wouldn’t want to spoil you.”  
  
“You already have.” He laughed, and pulled his hat down over his glasses.  
  
I followed his lead, rubbing my sweaty palms against my jeans, and sighed. The heat was oppressive, and just as bad inside, the effects made everyone listless. I seriously debated finding the nearest dive and holing up with more junk food for the night.  
  
Billy readily agreed, remarking that at the rate the town was moving, another age would pass before I had my tire. He was absolutely right.  
  
*  
  
A sticky calm settled over us once we dropped the car off and got a lift to seedy motel number 47. The heat was miserable, the dry kind that seemed to suck the very breath from your lips as soon as you opened them. Moving was done as little as possible, and if Billy wasn't in the room with me, I was sure to have been sprawled bare assed naked on the lumpy bed, in a half-sleep. As it was, I was reduced to peeling off my shirt, and curling on my side, partially listening to the low noise from the antiquated telly. A river of sweat trickled down my back, pooling at the top of my ass crack, and I wiggled, both from the discomfort and from the thoughts I had of Bill that made something curl like tendrils of smoke in my belly. I thought of him, sprawled beneath me naked and slick with sweat in this heat, and I wanted to know what his warm skin tasted like so bad my tongue grew heavy, and I found it momentarily impossible to swallow.  
  
I sighed and stifled a groan of discomfort, and when I felt conditions in my shorts become constricted, I opted to roll over onto my stomach, so as not to traumatize the man further. Besides, if the glassy look that flashed in his eyes at the mention of his past was any clue, the man had been through enough. I sighed again, wishing I could unlock the mystery behind those cactus green eyes, and help soothe the hurt I knew he suffered, and then I was frustrated with myself, as I had no real reason to be so concerned for this man, a man I hardly knew admittedly.  
  
He stirred on the bed and I heard rather than saw him lift his head to look at me.  
  
"Mmm?" I hummed, my face buried in a pillow, which was a bad idea really, since the poly-cotton was a heat magnet, and just rubbed the hot against my sweaty cheeks.  
  
"S'fucking hot, Dom." He grumbled, and I chuckled. It was the most normal thing he'd said to me since I met him.

"Manager says the air won't work for another hour still. Bloody wanker," I spat, remembering the nonchalant manner in which he broke the news to me, when I staggered up to the office madder than a wet bobcat.  
  
"Ach, I cannae survive until then." He groaned, and peeled off his shirt, tossing it across the room with surprising good arm. I licked my lips, willing myself not to stare at his chest, but it was no use. Our trip in my shirts had given him an odd farmers tan, so his arms were a bronzed peach color up till his shoulder, and then again in a lop-sided oval around his neck and down to the tops of his collar bone where my shirts would sag on him. Something pleasant wiggled in my chest at the thought that my clothes had branded him for life, and I snorted. _Nancy git, you are_  
  
"So tell me more about Dom Monaghan the bug guy."  
  
I laughed, and rolled over, confident enough now to show the front of my shorts.

"Not much to tell actually. I was working in Manchester at a local children's discovery museum fresh out of university. A yank from California was taking his god-daughter to the UK, and was told he _had_ to see my presentation, so he did. He liked it so much he figured American children would too, so he made me an offer I couldn’t refuse."  
  
I used my best Don voice, and waggled my eyebrows at him.  
  
I got the distinct impression he didn't get it.  
  
"So, the yank was Elijah? You were sleeping together?"  
  
I chewed my lip, mixed about how I felt about recalling that time, years ago.  
  
"Um, yea. Well, not right away..." I realized I sounded like a blubbering idiot. I placed the blame entirely on the guarded expression on his face. Could he be jealous?  
  
"Elijah was enthusiastic, and charming. He was also very rich. He was a child star who invested well, and had good connections in the industry yea? So, next thing I know, we're in California, in a two bit studio, and I'm surrounded by six year olds and arachnids." I laughed, remembering the tears on the first day, tears from the kids who were petrified of the tarantula, and my tears, from the headache and nerves that wrought me after 7 hours with crying kindergarteners.  
  
"Sounds like one hell of a first day." He smiled, and leaned back on his elbows. Sweat pooled in a valley around his navel, and his nipples hardened. I lowered my lids and continued.  
  
"Anyhow, after a rocky start, the show took off, and was picked up by a cable network. Animal Planet, you ever heard of it?"  
  
He picked at the duvet, and nodded though he didn't meet my eyes.  
  
"So um, the show took off, and so did my friendship with Elijah." I smiled, remembering how he came to Costa Rica with me, for my first show on the road. He hiked with me, though he was terribly out of shape, and wheezed the whole way. When we got to out hut, I rolled out the mosquito nets, and he produced the champagne, to celebrate. By the time the lamps were on, we were tangled around one another, half-covered in the champagne he got all over us when he popped the cork.  
  
"You get this look when you think of him." Billy murmured, low. "It's a look people live their whole lives to have graced on them."

I wondered why I had tears in my eyes, and nodded slowly. "That time has passed, Billy. It's just memories."  
  
"Memories you're still tangled up in."  
  
I rolled on my back, swallowing around the dryness in my throat. I was angry, but didn't want to evaluate why. I knew one thing: he was wrong. I wasn't tangled up in Elijah anymore.  
  
*  
  
"Dom, I'm sorry."  
  
I snuffled against the blanket, and rubbed my eyes. I didn’t remember dozing off.  
  
"What for?"  
  
"I-I, hardly know you, Dom. I have no right to make assumptions about your life, or feelings."  
  
I clamped my eyes, and inhaled slowly. I wasn't ready to elaborate on the matter, certainly not now, when he was bathed in warm light from the lamp, with his hair falling gently like a golden halo.  
  
"Bill, tell me about your family."  
  
He stiffened, as I had hit a nerve once again. I waited for him to change the subject, but for once, he didn’t.  
  
"I-I...I don't really remember, to be honest. I know we disagreed. I know they left me. I...I don't think I was supposed to remember more."  
  
"How old are you, Bill?"  
  
He sighed, and wrung his hands on the blanket.  
  
"See, I can't tell you that, Dom…"  
  
"How old are you, Bill? Where did you come from?"  
  
He stood up, his shoulders stiff, and stomped into the bathroom. I followed, a strange mean streak driving me on. Maybe I wanted to pay him back for making assumptions about me.  
  
"I can't Dom, I just can't."  
  
"Billy-"  
  
"Don't give me that look! Don't stare. I don't like it when people stare. I'm not crazy!"  
  
I stiffened.  
  
"I never said you were, Billy."  
  
"Aye, but you will. You'll stare, and then think I'm crazy, and look at me with sad eyes. Sad eyes that say "Poor Bill. Poor crazy Billy.""  
  
  
I stepped forward to touch him, to smooth down the discomfort.  
"And then you'll leave. You'll say, "This is the end of the road, dude." and drop me off at some campsite, or service station, and leave me to stare at the cloud of dust as you pull away.  
  
I winced at the anguish in his voice, and he jabbed the heels of his fist into his eyes.  
  
"What-what they don't see is when they leave, what happens ok? They never see the scars they never see the blue light that would fall over me when night falls. I can't show them because acting like that gets you locked up or sent away. Sent to cold rooms with hot metal and machines that probe and poke. Well they're not going to get me again, Dom. None of them! I got away, and I'm not going back!"  
  
He crumbled onto the toilet seat, and choked on a sob, and I was torn between feeling like an incredible piece of shit, and being very afraid of this small man who just fell to pieces in the bathroom.  
  
I swallowed, and closed the door, suddenly fearful that people had heard his rant.  
  
"You're giving me sad eyes, Dom. Just like I knew you would."  
  
He wrapped his arms around himself.  
  
"How old are you, Billy?"  
  
"I lost count."  
  
He stood up suddenly, and flicked the light off. The bathroom became inky black, save for a small pocket of moonlight that poured in from the tiny window. He stood and stepped into the moonlight, the tracks of his tears streaked down his face.  
  
"Billy-"  
  
"Don't call me that." He whispered, and turned around, showing his back to me. I blinked, wondering what he was on about, until I saw, and gasped. His back was covered in the palest faintest scars I'd ever seen. They seemed to be in a pattern, from the bottom of his neck, until they gathered and pooled into a mean-looking scar at the base of his spine. I reached out to touch it, wondering if I was truly seeing what I saw, and then flinched as my fingertips grazed over the white knot of tissue.  
  
"What happened?" I whispered.  
  
"Tests. A rod that time, I believe."  
  
I frowned. "That would have rendered you crippled."

"No, it would have rendered a human crippled." He whispered.  
  
He turned again, his face shy but determined. I narrowed my eyes, wondering what planet I had landed on.  
  
"What do you mean?"  
  
He blinked at me, sad but calm now. I would never be able to properly explain it, but I saw then, just what he meant. There was a glow about him, and a wisdom and sadness in his eyes that went far beyond the age he appeared to be. He touched my forearm, and a small jolt of electricity shot up my arm, and to the base of my neck.

"Why can't you-"  
  
He finished my thought.  
  
"My family left me."  
  
"How can you-"  
  
"I don't know how. I don't know the way home, Dom."  
  
"What did you-"  
  
"I believed humans weren't cruel. I defended them, and disobeyed my family."  
  
"How?"  
  
"I fell in love with a woman."  
  
I swallowed, and slumped against the wall. He hesitated, and then opened the door, letting the warm light wash in. I heard him rustle about in the room, but I couldn’t move, I was too busy staring at the cool gloss of the tub, my mind full of visions of his back, and the path of old hurts he hid every day.  
  
It was only when the front door opened, that I found the use of my legs. He was halfway out the door.  
  
"What, wait! Where are you going?"  
  
He frowned, and gave me a sidelong glance.  
  
"I'm leaving."  
  
"No, you can't go. You don't have to go."  
  
"Dom-"  
  
"What did the woman do? The one you loved?"  
  
He smiled softly. "She loved me back, until the day she died."  
  
I let a gust of air fall from my lungs.  
  
"Stay, Billy."  
  
"Why?"  
  
I gulped.  
  
"Because I want you to."  
  
He looked down, and licked his lips.  
  
"Because I need you...need you to."  
  
  
He nodded, and stepped back into the room, shutting the door behind me.  
I took the critical steps across the room over to him, and wrapped my arms around him.  
  
He held me back, his fingers smoothing my skin down. He squished his nose into my collarbone.  
  
"You're the first friend I've had in a long time."  
  
I nodded, and smoothed the back of his hair down. I had never felt overjoyed and heartbroken in the same breath before.

Dom takes a road trip to escape a life he doesn’t want to live anymore, and finds more than he ever dreamed in the desert.


	3. Chapter 3

Sharing secrets was cathartic we both realized, and before we knew it, we were passed out on the same bed, deep in a boneless sleep. I woke up before him, during the pink-blue hours before dawn, and watched him sleep next to me, curled on his side. He tucked his arms under him when he slept, and his lips parted a little. I thought I should feel more, be more scared, have more questions, but I didn’t to be honest. I wondered why I even believed him, since the only proof I had of him being not of this world was a book full of odd behavior, some faint scars and what could have been a heat induced hallucination in a dark bathroom, but I didn’t question that either.

Instead, I smoothed back the softest strands of hair I’d ever felt, and got used to the soft smile on my lips.

He rolled over, mumbling some snippet of a dream, and sighed, his hands resting on his belly. I continued to stare at the even rise and fall of his chest, until I suppose he felt it, and opened his eyes slowly. He  
smiled faintly and stretched, in a move that was distinctly like a kitten.

I chewed the inside of my cheek.

“Morning.”

“Good morning Dominic.” He rolled over on his side, and staggered to the bathroom.

For a wild moment I saw mornings that I wanted to spend with him. Soft mornings spent kissing his biceps, and whispering naughty things in his small ears, and his legs wrapped around my waist, pressing his arousal against my hip. The shock and effect of such thoughts was immediate, and as soon as he emerged from the bathroom, I darted past him, hoping a piss would help things along.

It didn’t, but I was not about to wank while he was just on the other side of the thin door, and wide awake. It wasn’t the space that concerned me; hell I’d wanked with him in the room before, but rather the fact that he was awake. Before I’d waited until he’d fallen asleep, or woke up before him. After a few cleansing breaths, things returned back to normal, and I padded out of the bathroom.

“Have a good time, Dommie?” He grinned, and tucked his hands behind his head.

I stared at him as if he grew four arms.

“Wha?”

“You like to masturbate in the morning. I assumed that was what you were doing.”

I was sure I resembled a Manchurian Owl now, if the laughter that erupted from his throat was any clue. I shook my head, and plopped onto the bed elbow first, sighing.

“I didn’t wank…today…but thanks for asking.”

He giggled, and rubbed his nose. “Anytime.”

“When was the last time you wanked, Billy?”

“How do you know I wank?”

“Because you are a man, well, you’re in a man’s body. Therefore you must wank.”

He blushed, and coughed, suddenly finding the duvet extremely interesting.

“I-I don’t usually have the need to, actually. But erm, since you’re asking…a few days ago.”

“Ah, something got the juices going eh?” I waggled my eyebrows.

He snorted. “Not really, more like it was time, I guess.”

“Ah.” I said, fighting the bit of disappointment that struck me. What was I thinking? That he was pining for me and therefore was sexually frustrated?

“What do you erm, think about when you…” He trailed off, and blushed furiously.

“Never mind, this conversation is getting too personal.”

“No no, its ok.” I laughed. “I’ve seen you naked, Bill it doesn’t get more intimate than that.”

“Of course it does.” He replied, and there it was again, that strange glow in his eyes.

I swallowed. I both loved and hated that look.

“Do you think of him? When you…”

“No.” I replied immediately. It was true, and I knew he saw the honesty in my eyes.

“Would you…sleep with him, if you saw him again?”

If had had asked me weeks ago, I would have said yes.

“No.”

He snorted. “I don’t believe you.”

“Doesn’t matter. It’s the truth.”

He shook his head, and closed his eyes.

“Does it bother you that I…you know…” I blushed, wondering why I was suddenly unable to articulate my sexual behavior.

“No. People are people, Dom.”

“Oh.”

He hesitated, and then elaborated. “Besides, I’ve ehm…ya know…”

I know my eyes widened, but I managed to keep the grin to myself.

“Oh. Ok.”

I wondered if this was before or after the mystery woman that cost him his family, but I kept that to myself. I knew if I asked him I would sound like a jealous git, and I didn’t want that.

“So, what’s our next destination once the car is fixed?”

I shrugged, not really sure myself. “I was thinking we could do for some excitement…and human interaction. Er, no pun intended.”

“No no.” He laughed.

“Not that I don’t find your rendition of Cyndi Lauper’s Girls Just Wanna Have Fun” endearing.”

I found it bloody adorable, actually, but I’d cut my tongue off before I’d admit it. The man had an amazing voice.

“Sure sure, “he snorted.

“You ever been to Vegas, Bill?”

His eyes clouded over, but he shook it away before I could ask about it.

“No.”

“Not that we have to go, or anything. I just figured, it would be fun. Forget it, it was stupid, we can go somewhere else.”

“No, no, I want to go with you.” He leaned over and touched my forearm. “Really, I’ll go anywhere…”

I smiled a bit.

“Then its Vegas, baby.”

Chapter 6

The car was good as new as promised, and after a cool shower we were on the road again, en route to Vegas. He had the most dreadful taste in sunglasses I’d ever seen, and at an AM/PM had plucked up a huge pair of bug eyed glasses, with white frames. He’d looked like  
a bad extra from Thelma and Louise. He grinned, and waggled his eyebrows, as he slid into his seat, wearing my favorite shorts and a black tank top. I was transfixed on a freckle on his left bicep for a full  
minute, but he was too busy arranging the haul of snacks we had got to notice.

I started the car and sighed. This was going to be a long ride.

*

“Blue or green, Billy?”

“Green.”

“Vanilla or Chocolate?”

“Chocolate.”

“Firm or soft?”

“Firm.”

I snorted.

“Bloody pervert.”

“And?”

I rubbed my palms against the steering wheel.

“Hmmm. I know, what’s your favorite flower, Dom?”

“Sunflower.”

He grinned and it turned into a yawn.

“We’ll stop soon. There is a town bout 20 minutes away.”

“Good because my arse hurts.” He mumbled.

I laughed.

True to form we checked into yet another seedy hotel, weary and sore from the ride. We would be in Vegas by mid-morning and I was starting to get excited.

We hadn’t eaten since lunch, something Bill was sure to have a problem with, as the man ate like clockwork, and had a voracious appetite.

A few winks and putting on the accent to the receptionist revealed a local bar and restaurant not far from the hotel, where we could get a decent meal, so I collected the hungry man up, and went out.

The bar was like something out of a tawdry B movie, complete with the row of motor bikes lining the front to match the line of bearded bikers that lines in front of the bar. We earned a few strange looks when we came in, but thankfully a new song started that distracted them, and we were allowed to slink into a murky corner, and wait for a waitress to help us.

Twenty minutes later, said waitress arrived, her hair in a greasy pony tail, snapping gum.

Her name was Tammy.

I fought the urge to pinch myself. At the very least, I expected Pee Wee Herman to come bounding from the kitchen, Tequila song blaring.

We ordered a pair of the greasiest burgers ever prepared in the western hemisphere along with a steaming side of chili fries. For all the tackiness of the venue, the food was the tastiest heart attack I’d  
ever eaten, and before we knew it, our plates were bare, and our bellies full.

Looking back, that would have been the prime time to leave.

Instead, we opted to get a pint or two, and while waiting, Bill was challenged to a game of darts. He hesitated, his eyes flitting from me to the red faced young man who was smiling at him, as if he’d like to  
have him for dinner. My knuckles cracked, but I stifled it, realizing that a tumble in this place would probably cost me my life or a limb. The shortest bloke was 4 inches taller than me.

Billy agreed, shyly digging out the few bills I had given him, and plucked up the darts. I crept in close to him, and leaned forward, my lips brushing his ear as I spoke.

“Can you uh, play darts, Bill?”

He ran his fingers over the synthetic feather, and then looked up at me, a crooked grin on his face.

“No.”

I exhaled a breath of relief, not minding the loss of $20 quid if it meant we’d not get our arses tossed out for besting the local champion at his own game.

Mr. Darts went first, easily chucking his darts into the bull’s eye, save one that was just outside the target. He turned amiably to face Bill, and motioned for Bill to begin.

Three darts whizzed past me, and landed solidly in the bull’s eye. I gaped, and I was not alone.

“How the fuck did you do that?” Mr. Darts gasped.

Bill shrugged, and politely gathered his winnings.

“Thanks, that was-“

Our path was barricaded by the row of bikers who had eyed us initially.

“Um.”

I raked my fingers through my hair, not liking the sudden absence of music, or chatter.

“Excuse me.” Billy murmured his head bent low.

No one answered.

“Play me again.” Mr. Darts growled his face redder than before. He motioned to take a swig of his beer, but paused, perhaps making that ingenious correlation between drunkenness and dart throwing performance. He tossed, landing all three in the bull’s eye, and faced  
Bill smug.

Bill plucked up his darts, his fingers twitching nervously, and tossed them.

They landed dead center, one after the other.

The crowd howled, and Billy cringed.

“Why can’t you bloody well lose?” I hissed my fingers digging into his bicep, as I tried to pull away while they were distracted.

“Best of three.” Mr. Darts slurred.

“No, thank you.” Billy replied.

“Here-here, take the money.” I offered, handing him the cash.

“Don’t want a fucking handout. Now you’re friend here, needs to play me again.”

“I won’t.” Billy answered his voice still deadly quiet. “Take the money if you like, but let us leave.”

Mr. Darts shoved, and Billy lost his footing a bit.

“Don’t fucking tell me what to do, you little fag.”

Bill’s eyes glowed a deep green, and I saw his fists balled up. For the first time ever, I feared the gentle quiet man who’d sung bad 80s songs in my car would be terribly dangerous.

“Please, let us leave.”

He side stepped the man, and I was fast behind him. The crowd parted, though begrudgingly, and I let out a breath I didn’t know I was holding once we were outside.

“Come on, Billy. Let’s get the fuck out of here.” I grumbled, as I dug in my pocket for keys.

“DOM!” He yelled, but it was too late, I felt hands grip my shoulders like a vice, pinning me back.

“Argh! Fuck!”

I wiggled to get free, and my reward was a punch in the liver. I spat on the dirt, and then looked up. Mr. Darts and his posse had followed us, and one of them had a bat in his hand, and was aiming for me. I shut my eyes, terrified.

The bat never connected. Behind my eyelids I felt the glare of a flash of light, and when I opened them my attackers were running away, cursing. Billy stood in the center panting, and beneath him, Mr. Darts lie on the ground, bleeding far too much to stay alive for much longer.

I blanched as if I had been dunk in ice water.

“Dom,” Billy croaked, his body trembling.

“Come on,” I growled, a cool direction taking over me, and I snatched him by the arm.

I drove like a bat out of hell back to the hotel, praying that the bikers hadn’t seen my car.

Billy walked, slower than was natural, and sat on the edge of the bed.

“Take a shower, Billy. There’s blood on your hands.”


	4. Chapter 4

Neither of us slept much that night. I kept checking the window for the mob of cops I expected to swarm our room at any moment, and Billy, well, he was worse for wear. After checking the window for the thirtieth time, I gave into my exhaustion and agreed to rest for the night.  
  
It was then that I realized Billy wasn't out of the shower yet. I found him, crouched under the stream of water, stoic. The sight nearly broke my heart. I pulled him up wordlessly, wincing at the shock of ice cold water on my back, and silently berated myself for allowing so much time to pass before I checked on him. The faucet was clearly turned to "hot." He didn't resist my gentle nudging, and I pulled him up in my arms, wrapping a few towels around him. I knew from the frightened look in his eye that getting him dressed would take too much effort, so I simply dried him briskly, and nestled him under the covers, rubbing his arms to encourage warmth. He sighed tiredly, fingers still clinging to my shirt, teeth chattering from the cold.  
  
"Dom..."He lowered his eyes, shy.  
  
"Shh," I soothed, and leaned down to brush my lips against his temple. "I'm coming; I just want to change out of these wet clothes."  
  
I pulled off my damp shirt, stripping down to my boxers, and slid under the covers.  
  
"What if-" I shook my head, not ready for the repercussions.  
  
I knew we would be in trouble, but at the moment, my priority was in getting him warm, and rested. We'd been through more than enough.  
  
Dawn came sickening hot and far too fast, and I was up before Bill, in the shower, washing off the smell of beer and burgers from the night before. The flash of light played behind my eyelids, I could still hear the scuffle of feet against the pink gravel, and I found myself trembling. I shook it off, and stepped out of the shower. When I came out, Billy was dressed sitting on the edge of the bed.  
  
"Hi." I sounded lame, even to my ears.  
  
"Hi." He picked at the duvet, a nervous gesture of his, I found.  
  
"Let's um..." I scanned the room, taking inventory of what belongings I would need to get together.  
  
"Thank you, Dom." I blinked.  
  
"Billy?"  
  
"For staying with me. Thank you."  
  
"You don't have to thank me, I'm your friend."  
  
He shook his head. "You're in danger if you stay with me. I need to leave. If they find me, I'll say I was alone." His voice grew increasingly strained, worried, and reached a fevered pitch.  
  
He became a flurry of motion, packing up my-no no, our belongings, and then handing me the stuffed duffel bag.  
  
_"Go Dom."_ His eyes pleaded, but I ignored them.  
  
"I'm not leaving you." I left no room for argument.  
  
*  
  
"Where do we go now?"  
  
His leg bounced up and down rapidly, and he kept checking the rearview mirror, and whenever a cop drove by, he'd stiffen.  
  
"Same place we've always been going to, Bill. Vegas."  
  
I knew I for one was in no mood to gamble and live it up, but I also knew that from a major city we stood a greater chance of seeking better council, and deal with the aftermath of the terrible night. I also hoped the city would offer us more anonymity.  
  
"So," I hesitated, wondering if I really wanted to know. Fear licked up my throat, and I shook my head. "You ready for the casinos? If you're as good at roulette as you are at darts..." And then my voice drifted off, because so far his unusual skill hadn't got us very far at all.  
  
*  
  
"Pick a number, William," I leaned forward, my lips brushing his ear, tickling no doubt.  
  
He nodded, face wrought in concentration. Thus far we'd won $400, a modest sum, but amazing considering I'd only given him a $5.  
  
"Twenty-seven." He remarked, placing his chips on the black circle, and then folding his hands calmly.  
  
The small wheel turned, the needle clicking against the wooden pegs, until they blurred gold, black, and red, and then slowed to a crawl.

The dealer shook his head, disbelieving, and forked over the money.  
  
"Twenty-Seven!" He barked, taking money from the lone player who had not bet on Billy's choice.  
  
"Come on, Bills." I urged softly.  
  
I was a bit buzzed, after three hours of free drinks, and the edges of things were beginning to get fuzzy. I wanted to leave, before I got pissed. Besides which, a dodgy looking fellow had been giving us the eye from time to time, and while he didn't seem threatening, something about him didn't sit right with me. Billy took his chips to the cashier and placed them on the counter shyly.  
  
"Wow, well congratulations!" She cashier chirped, pouring the winnings into her tray, where an automatic counter set to the task of counting the money.  
  
"Now, if I can just see your ID..."  
  
He turned to me, face pale, and I winced. I had forgotten about that. Shite.  
  
"Oh, um, my friend here, he left it back at the room..."  
  
Her face hardened, obviously used to that routine. Surely they had a plan for such occasions, right?  
  
"Well, I could hold his winnings, take his name, but I can't release them until I see identification."  
  
I gripped the counter. We didn't need the money yet, but we would, especially if I was going to be a runaway fugitive. Besides, who the hell wants to walk away from hundreds of dollars? Bill, on the other hand, had other plans.  
  
"I'll just go." He pushed away from the counter.  
  
"Okay, well, your money will be here for you. I just need your name..."  
  
"Monaghan. My name is Dom Monaghan." I opened my mouth, and then closed it; my mouth curling into what I hope was an innocent smile.

The man was brilliant.  
  
"Okay Mr. Monaghan..." She gave him a confirmation print out, and a smile. I waited until we were in the parking lot, before I howled victoriously, slinging my arm around him.  
  
"Brilliant! You're bloody brill!" I kissed his temple warmly, smiling at the blush that crept up on his cheeks.  
  
"C’mon Bill, let's get some shut eye. We'll have to wait until morning for the shift to change..." He nodded, hips bumping mine, and slid into the car.  
  
*  
  
Driving back to the hotel was dodgy, since I was still a bit pissed, but I took it slow, managing to avoid getting pulled over. Once back at seedy dive number 59, I pushed into the room, a smile on my lips, still remembering the man's cleverness in the casino. He too was pleased, a sly smile toying at his lips, his shoulders slack for the first time since the night before. I blinked, shaking away the memory, wrapping my arm around him again.  
  
"You did well, Billy." I shook his shoulder. He pulled a face, teasing, and looked up at me, eyes wide.  
  
"Don't call me that." I smiled a retort on my lips that died, when I realized how close our mouths were. I could already taste him.  
  
"William," I licked my lips. "I believe I want to kiss you now." He swallowed, and lowered his eyes, motioning to pull away. I stopped him gently.  
  
"You don't know me well enough to want to kiss me, Dominic."  
  
"Sure I do,” I murmured.  
  
_I know you have the worst taste in sunglasses I have ever seen. I know you have a voice that gives me goose bumps, and that the back of your neck smells like heaven in the morning. I know that you like root beer, but hate orange soda, and you can eat your weight in chocolate. I know that since you've met me, the gaping hole in my chest has started to heal, and that if you're not careful you've have a nancy poetic Mancurian in love with you._  
  
  
He blinked, a smile teasing his lips, and tilted his head back.  
  
"Well then, I stand corrected."  
  
I blushed. “I said that out loud, didn’t I?”  
  
He laughed softly, “No.”  
  
I wasn’t surprised; not really, my face was always an open book. The fact that he hadn’t ran screaming from the room however, made my pulse race, so I took a chance. I bent down, closing the space between us, and pressed my lips against his softly, savoring the taste of him-chocolate, spice from our dinner, and mint from the gum he was chewing all night.  
  
His tongue gently slipped against my lips, and I moaned, shifting so that our bodies were flush against one another. I was wrong to think his arousal would feel good pressed against my hip: it felt wonderful. We backed up, his lips never leaving mine, hands roaming, tugging at my clothing while our labored breathing pieced the silence in the room. I fell back, staring at his eyes, which never left mine and were glowing brighter by the moment. Once his shirt was gone, I attacked his neck, tasting the salt and tang of sweat.  
  
He was silent; his breathing the only clue I had to use as a gauge to his pleasure, and it was both unnerving, and oddly arousing. I wanted to make the gentle man I’d spent hours with cry out for me; I wanted to see him come undone.  
  
He fell rather clumsily atop me, face shy, though I was pleased to see his desire was evident, both in his face, and his body’s reaction to me. Maybe I thought aliens in human-like bodies would react differently, but it didn’t seem to be the case.  
  
My hands roamed, removing his pants and then mine, laughing when we stumbled and bumped limps and heads together in the rush to get my pants off. When he settled between my legs, laughing breathlessly, the mood changed, and the room heated up several degrees.  
  
There was no discussion, merely the practiced silent communication that is usually common between two lovers who have been together for years, not for the first time. I had the foresight to pack condoms, not because I was planning anything when I left Cali, but because I’m a realist who’d rather not be caught unaware.  
  
To my surprise, he’d seemed at ease with this-fingers danced over my cock, sliding the condom on, and then lubricating my shaft. I motioned to help him ready himself, but he gently batted my hand away, leaning and reaching back with a practiced precision as he slid a small finger in, stretching himself. His lips parted, a flash of pink tongue just peeking over, and I leaned by head back, feeling a stab of hunger rock me to my spine.  
  
He pressed his palms at my side, lifting, and in a swift motion, impaled himself atop me. I rolled my eyes back, mouthing a soft curse, wondering how I would last if he kept this up. He had to be at the very least uncomfortable-he was so snug I was sure this wasn’t an activity he embarked very often. Yet, he was confidant atop me, and began to rock his hips experimentally, before adjusting to allow for the frantic rush of thrusting that began between us.  
  
Something desperate and tragic shone in his eyes, and I was determined to banish it.  
  
My hands fluttered to his hips, pulling him down roughly to meet my counter thrust, and he sighed each time, his bobbing cock proof that he was quite happy with the situation. I kept quiet, unusual for me, though sometimes I let out a soft noise, but in truth, I was in awe of the person atop me, holding my wrists down still.  
  
Maybe I was still drunk, maybe it was the insanity of the entire journey, but whatever the case, I saw him change in the dim light, his skin shinning until he appeared luminescent. He pulled my hands, until they were reaching for the wall, and then he leaned so his face was inches from mine, and began to move harder, faster than before.  
  
“Shite Billy!” I hissed, wanting to move, but rooted in my place, and the glowing grew brighter, complimenting the familiar but unnerving hue his eyes now where. He’d get like that sometime, that undeniable but amazing flash of something, and before I’d always been scared.  
  
That night, that glow was a beacon, pulling me to shore when I felt myself drift.  
  
Something about moving with Billy was shattering, and I felt as if my skin was being pulled from muscle, muscle from bone. My heart hammered against my ribs, and a simmering burn in my veins rolled to a boil, until I was tensed up, locked in the most exquisite space between pleasure and pain I’d ever been. His hands rested on my chest, trembling, and at my navel, something warm swirled, spreading like a slow fire, until my stream of consciousness skipped a beat, and I was falling to pieces beneath him.  
  
I blinked owlishly, looking at the creature above me, who was still shaking. He pulled his hands, which were still glowing, from my chest, and I felt a tingling, as if he’d rubbed eucalyptus balm on me.  
  
He fell boneless his and my belly slick, and I took his weight, needed it even.  
  
“Dom,” He whispered, and I shushed him gently.  
  
There was nothing he could say, that I didn’t already feel coursing through my veins.  
  
*  
  
Morning in the desert is always like staring at the brink of heaven I think, and that morning was no exception from what I saw. Through the cracks in the curtains, lavender, peach, and then pink light filtered in, washing over our nude bodies, making Billy’s skin warm and even more kissable.  
  
I was sure I could have seen the sun peep over the tops of the sleeping casinos-if I wasn’t content to remain were I was, holding onto the treasure in my arms, a smile on my lips.  
  
He’d fallen asleep shortly after last night, and I held him, running a fingertip across his features, memorizing everything. I knew by the clench in my chest, and the icy fear that raced in my pulse that I was more than just attached now, and the thought both exhilarated and terrified me.  
  
He stirred a bit, nose rubbing against my chest, and then pulled back, smiling at me sleepily.  
  
“Hi,” I murmured, running a fingertip over his brow.  
  
“Hi,” he whispered, leaning forward to kiss me.  
  
I didn’t give a damn bout morning breath, or sleep boogies, or anything like that, only able to think and breathe for the press of his lips against mine, and the warm stirring on my hip.  
  
He pulled back, face sweetly naughty, and trailed a hand down my torso, resting on my hip.  
  
“What are you doing?” I teased, well aware of what his body intended to do, but needing to hear it from his lips, with his lilt.  
  
He grinned, and parted his lips to speak, but then paused, a panicked-stricken look crossing his face.  
  
“What is it?” I asked, cool fear pounding in my chest.  
  
He opened his mouth to speak, but never got the chance, as the door banged open, and a swarm of law enforcement bombarded our room, guns drawn.  
  
They hollered and yelled, tearing Billy from the bed, guns poised on me warningly, as they cuffed him.  
  
I started, wanting to scream and cry at the sight of him, vulnerable and naked, cold metal digging into his wrists, and demanded that they give him the dignity of clothing, before they pulled him into the blinding morning sun.  
  
The obliged, hastily offering up clothes-my clothes, and then made short work of removing him from the room.  
  
He turned, tee shirt askew, and stared at me, as they pulled him out the door.  
  
I slumped in the bed, glaring at the officers who waited for me to dress, my blood afire.  
  
I wasn’t sure what haunted me more, the sound of his voice as he called my name one last time or the primal fear that shone in his eyes.  
  
The officers gave me a moment to dress, leaving the room, and as soon as I heard the door shut, I drew my legs close, wrapping into myself, and let the tears fall.


	5. Chapter 5

They took us to the hospital, then. Me so that they could check and make sure that Billy hadn’t hurt me, despite my assurances that he hadn’t, and Billy so that they could ‘test’ him. My consciousness was a blur of stubborn interrogation, stressed out glances from Elijah, who had flown down, and the gnawing fear for Billy. My poor Billy, who was alone in a cold hospital room, in restraints they said, no doubt defeated and as frightened as I was.  
  
I sat in the hospital bed and focused my desire to see him until it hurt, blocking out everything, even when the agents threw the stark picture of Mr. Darts at me. He lay cold on the grit of the ground, a hole the size of my fist in his chest. For half a moment I felt sorry for him, knowing he was no doubt dying slowly, alone in the still desert. I wondered if sands swirled around him as he took his last breath, already covering that which should have never happened.  
  
Coffee became my friend. I wished it was spiked with scotch, but still, it helped. My hands felt frail suddenly, as I grasped cup after cup, stifling the pain at the memory of how they had torn us apart, torn him apart, called him a liar.  
  
He had a wife, and children, they said. She was here, at the hospital, right that moment, by his side.  
  
They threw pictures of his family at me- a small pretty-faced woman, and two children who posed goofily for the photo. The kids had his baby smile, and I imagined they too loved every tacky pair of sunglasses they got a hold of.  
  
The sight of my Billy standing on a crisp green yard, wedged between his life, his responsibility, made bile rise in my throat, and I ran to the toilet, emptying my stomach of all six cups of coffee.  
  
Cool hands stopped the room from spinning, and the fuzzy parts of my brain remembered that Elijah was there.  
  
I crumpled onto scratchy sheets, weak and defeated, tears shining in my eyes.  
  
“Let me see Billy, and I’ll tell you everything.”  
  
Orlando protested along with Elijah, despite his insecure glare and poorly-hid jealously.  
  
  
Astin just stared at me over his brows, his jaw set in a fierce protective frown.  
  
  
“Why are you doing this, Dominic?”  
  
  
I looked down at my still-trembling hands. I pulled my head back up to them, to their concerned faces.  
  
“I love him.”  
  
Saying it felt like being swept up into a riptide, the undertow lulling me into a strange calm, like a siren song.  
  
  
“You believe him.” Elijah whispered, blinking back tears.  
  
  
I smiled weakly at Elijah, at the unspoken communication between the two of us, and stood up, placing a hand on his shoulder, as the Agent led me out.  
  
  
Since Billy wasn’t exactly dubbed as being resistant, the guards had gotten lax, and it proved to be a serious mistake. They didn’t particularly care when Elijah, Orlando, and Astin followed us up to the psych ward, stopping, of course, some 10 feet from the door. There, they chatted the Agents up, drilling them for answers about my rights, my options, my fate.  
  
  
I knew my fate, had known it as soon as I heard Billy’s terrified cry in the desert that night.  
  
The cops at the door weren’t overly fond of the prospect of hearing what two poofs had to say to one another, so they happily backed off when I mumbled my desire to speak alone with him.  
  
Seeing him broke me in two.  
  
He was bound with cloth restraints, feet and hands, and judging from his face, his ‘testing’ had been less than gentle. I knew he had been attacked and not faught back, but I had no idea the true magnitude of his injuries.  
  
  
It was that refusal to fight back, along with their assertion that Billy was mad, that led to him being held in a psych ward. I faintly heard the cries of a patient, far down the hall, and stifled a shudder.  
  
He opened his eyes slowly, but wouldn’t face me.  
  
“Billy-“ I choked, walking numbly to his side. I prayed he wouldn’t recoil when I touched his hand gently.  
  
He didn’t.  
  
“I’m sorry, Dom.” He whispered. “I told you, begged you…”  
  
I shushed him, brushing my lips across his. He swallowed, and closed his eyes.  
  
“They told you, did they? Told you about her…”  
  
I nodded then mumbled, “Yes.”  
  
“Dom…” How could Billy explain, what could he say that would excuse it all? “I’m sorry, you probably think I’m a fake, a liar, but I’m telling you, Dom. That’s not me. That’s not who I am.”  
  
I frowned, struggling to reconcile what he said with what was in my head.  
  
“It’s a lie, Dom. My life was a lie. They thought I’d forgotten, and for a while I did. But I woke up, and I remembered. I ran, Dom, I won’t lie. But I’m not going back, and they can’t make me forget again.”  
  
I wrapped my fingers around his, and pressed them against my lips.  
  
“I won’t forget you, Dom. Even if they try-”  
  
“Billy…” He was desperate, and his eyes shone in terror more profound than the night he’d killed the man.  
  
“I love you, Dom. You’re the first person I’ve loved in a very long time, and I wanted to let you know that, before they separated us. I won’t see you again.”  
  
I blinked back tears, my reply hot on my lips, but the sentiment died when he spoke again, in a hushed whisper.  
  
“I can feel them, Dom. My family. The weather is ripe, clear sky, and heavy stars. They’re coming, and I’ll miss them.”  
  
He made a noise that might have been a sob, and I brushed back the tears from the corners of his eyelids. I thought of the life ahead of us, the rush to cover and silence, and the lifetime of quiet suffering he would endure if he stayed. I thought of my life as it was what it held for me: alone to mourn the loss of the only person who ever really knew me without trying.  
  
My soul mate.  
  
  
“Get up, Billy. Get these restraints off. We’re leaving.”  
  
He frowned.  
  
“No, Dom. You’re in enough trouble as it is. I won’t fight them, I won’t escape.”  
  
I tugged at the restraints, untying the knots, dimly wondering why security hadn’t come in yet. I stared at Billy, urging him to do what I _knew_ he was capable of doing, and he stared back, jaw set in defiance.  
  
“Billy!”  
  
He opened his mouth to speak, but was interrupted by the sounds of some form of altercation in the hallway. Bodies ran past the door, and I heard the shriek of the same patient I’d seen distressed in the hall earlier.  
  
Billy blinked, and taking the chance, burned through the cloth restraints easily, pulling himself up unsteadily. I offered an arm, and dug in the clear hospital bag, pulling out his clothes. He pulled them on fast as he could.  
  
He was still weak and tired.  
  
My hand reached for the door, and he stopped me, his grip like iron even in his weakened state.  
  
“Dominic, no. You stay.”  
  
His eyes pleaded again, and again, I ignored him. I pulled him close, pressing my lips to his throat. He shuddered.  
  
“I believe you, Billy.”  
  
Tears shone in his eyes, his lips twisted between a smile and a frown.  
  
“I believe _in_ you.” I kissed his brow, stomach churning as I heard the sounds of struggle outside. “Love you.”  
  
Elijah snatched open the door, his face pale, a trickle of blood sliding down his temple.  
  
“GO!” He commanded, pulling us from the room.  
  
  
I pulled Billy on, pausing to hug Elijah for a brief moment.

“Goodbye, Elijah.”  
  
He opened his mouth to speak, but a guard rounded a corner, a psych patient attached to his leg, and pounded the security alarm at the nurse’s station. He smiled smugly, as the page echoed across the hospital, and the halls flashed orange. Orlando approached him from behind, and tripped him, satisfied by the sound of his arse connecting with the floor solidly.  
  
I turned, and ran for the car.  
  
The day was dying, light falling gracefully over the Sierra Nevada as I put the car in drive and tore up the road, expecting company any moment.  
  
“Where to, Billy?”  
  
He peered up through the window, eyes closed, and inhaled.  
  
“Bear southeast.”  
  
We drove, a pack of cops and a lone helicopter catching our trail a half hour later. I knew alread that it would be impossible to lose them, so I didn’t try.  
  
“How far?” I asked instead.  
  
“Until we reach the point where the stars touch the ground.”  
  
My stomach churned, calculating the laws we’d broken, and the number of years in jail I’d get. I rubbed my hands against the steering wheel until my skin burned, and tore.  
  
We drove on, darkness fell, and the flash of their headlights danced across our faces like a deranged disco.  
  
“There!” He cried, pointing to a dirt road. I spun the wheel, guiding our car onward, tearing through the old barbed wire fence, and tumbling over the dry undergrowth.  
  
They followed, though slower, as they had to allow one car after the other to go through the path I created in the fence. I sped on, taking advantage of their delay. We drove on, and the air grew darker, until, as he predicted, the desert seemed only lit by starlight.  
  
I couldn’t even see the shine of the city hundreds of miles away.  
  
I slowed the car to a stop, and jumped out of the car nervously. Billy followed suit, running like the dickens to the edge of the horizon. I followed, fast on his heels. The cars approached, their lights and sirens painting the still of the desert.  
  
I thought I saw a rabbit bustle away into the underbrush.  
  
“DON’T MOVE!” an officer commanded, and I heard the sickening slide of metal being pulled from the holster.  
  
I was but a few inches away from his side. He paused, his face still upturned. He closed his eyes, as if waiting for something heavenly to pour down over him.  
  
I swallowed, tears burning my eyes again, and cleared my throat.  
  
“I’m sorry…” I began, and turned slightly to face them.

“Dom NO!” Elijah cried, as he lunged forward, held back at the last moment by Orlando. Elijah’s face was red with tears. I burned that moment in my mind.  
  
I turned to Billy again, my back to them, and my hand connected with his firmly. He looked back at me, his face brighter than an Arizona sunrise, and tightened his hand around me, reassuring me. A gunshot rang through the too-thick air and white light blinded me, swallowing me, brilliant hot in the desert.

Guided by the gentle light of the stars and coaxed by the cool touch of the desert wind, Phoenix are reborn from the ash in which they burned.


End file.
